Not A Child
by mywarisalreadywon
Summary: Greg has grown up a lot in the time since he worked in the DNA lab. But it seems like nobody realizes that he isn't that goofy guy anymore. Hint of Morganders. WARNING: talk of self harm, depression, and suicide. No character deaths. I'm not that cruel. Lots of angst.


**I'm baaaaack! More Greg angst and pain. I think he's grown up a lot and if you watch earlier episodes compared to newer ones you can see just how much he's changed. There really aren't a lot of FANFICS that I've found that embody his having grown up so here goes. **

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It was a typical day in the Las Vegas crime lab. A open-shut robbery, a homicide where the man broke down and confessed, and a suicide. There was about an hour before shift ended and no cases left to work on. So the team sits around the break room table trading stories, jokes, and the like. Everyone was having a good time.

Except for Greg.

The young CSI put on a smile and acted like he wasn't getting more annoyed by the moment. He was generally easygoing, but tonight it was one hit after another. One insult following the next. Blow after blow, he kept smiling. He told himself that they weren't being serious. That they didn't mean it like that.

But it wasn't helping.

Nick continued to make him feel like a child. Sara continued defending him, making him feel like a child because he couldn't stand up for himself. Hodges continued ragging on him about how he used to work. They all continued to playfully attack him.

He knew that they didn't intend to hurt him, but it still wounded him nonetheless.

He refused to react though. He wouldn't show them that it hurt. Seemed like he was doing that all the time. He was hiding the hurt from their comments, he was hiding his depression, he was hiding his anxiety, he was hiding the fact that he contemplated suicide every week or so. He felt like he was hiding himself all the time. Like he couldn't even tell them because they would all freak out and worry and he definitely didn't need them to be invading his life because they were worried.

So he said nothing. He simply smiled and acted like everything fine.

But then Nick made another comment about him.

He snapped.

"Enough!" He said loudly, standing up. "I'm tired of being treated like a child, Nick. I'm not that geeky little lab rat anymore. I'm not the guy that would dance around the lab in a headdress. I am not a child. Do not patronize me. I don't know if you've noticed, Nick, but some of us had to grow up over the past decade. And if you can't see that, then maybe it's time you grew up." He finished, his hands were balled into shaking fists and his back was ramrod straight. After he stopped talking, he stalked out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

The room was plunged into silence at the man's outburst. Greg was usually the type of guy to just take what he was given. Not once had the team heard him complain and mean it. Although he was usually bursting with energy, he was never hot tempered.

"I'll see what I can do." Morgan said, breaking the crushing silence. Being the youngest, she and Greg had clicked. She left the room and went where she knew Greg would be; the roof. He told her that he often went there because the air helped him clear his head.

When she got there she found him sitting at the edge of the roof with his eyes closed, his face turned into the direction the wind was coming from. She watched as he just sat there motionless, letting go of all the stress pulling him down.

He relished the quiet, feeling the breeze trail across his skin. He had rolled up his sleeves and had unbuttoned his shirt, feeling like the soft fabric was constriction his breathing. It was a minor anxiety attack, but his first in a month. And he had actually kidded himself into believing he was getting better. He heard someone come onto the roof, but seeing and he really didn't want to talk to anyone right now, he chose to ignore whoever it was. It wasn't until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder that he acknowledged the other persons presence. He looked up and Morgan smiled down at him sadly.

"I'll be okay." He told her closing his eyes again.

"I never doubted that for a second." She sat down beside him and wrapped her hand around his wrist before he could hide the scars. He flinched a bit but didn't pull away from her touch. She traced the thin lines, some white with age, others newly pink or scabbed over. She wasn't putting any pressure on his skin, simply ghosting her fingers over the marks he had made upon his own body.

He let her feel the scars. The pain he couldn't talk about. The pain that he let out using a simple razor blade. The pain that would have destroyed him years ago had he not let it out using a simple piece of metal.

"How long?" She asked.

"I've lost count of the years." He said. He kept his eyes closed, knowing that if he opened them there would be no way to hold back the tears from flooding down his face. He had to keep it together.

"Most people are shocked."

"I'm not most people." She shot back at him.

"How did you know?" He asked.

"I don't know." She admitted. "I just kinda knew." She squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry." He said softly.

"For what?" She asked, confused.

"For blowing up at you guys."

"You had every right to be mad. I thought it was bothering you, but I couldn't tell for sure. It was definitely bothering me." She told him. "I heard about how hard you worked to become a CSI. I knew that it wasn't just scraping by." She leaned against his shoulder. "I'm sorry you aren't given more respect. You've earned it but you don't get it much. Even though they have more experience, Nick and Sara are the same rank as you. You rarely get solo cases, while they get them almost every other night." She looked up at his face. His jaw was clenched like he was holding something back. "It isn't fair to you. It seems like everyone tries to baby you when you don't need it and I'm sorry for that."

"It's not like you have any voice in what cases Russell chooses to send me on."

"You're right, but I'm still sorry about it." She rubbed his back. He suddenly couldn't hold the tears back any longer. Morgan continued to rub his back soothingly as the tears slid silently down his face. She pulled him close and he buried his face into her shoulder. He sobbed quietly as she held him. After a few minutes he pulled away wiping his eyes. His blondish-brown usually semi-spiked hair was falling into his eyes. When he looked at her she couldn't help but become enveloped by the soft chocolate brown orbs gazing across into her light blue eyes. His eyes were so warm and full of everything he was feeling. There were still tears in his eyes, but he was regaining control so that they could talk.

"It hurts." He said quietly. "I just feel like they don't realize how much I've changed."

"Other people can." She said claiming his hand in hers once more.

"Like who?" He asked, not believing that anyone at the lab saw him as an actual adult.

"Brass. Vartaan. Doc Robbins." She listed. "Just to name a few." That's who I've been talking to. Doc especially thinks that you're being held back." He looked at her.

"Then how come none of them ever say anything?" He asked.

"Well, Brass has. He told Russell that he should send you on your own, but Russell just shrugged and said maybe." She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. "But I don't think Brass will have to suggest it again after what happened back there. I think you made your point."

He didn't reply, just shrugged and looked at the sun rising.

"So why do you do it?" She asked.

"It's the only thing that helps. The anti-depressants don't help much. This is the only thing that makes me feel any better." He took a quivering breath. "I've tried to kill myself." He said. She hid the surprise well, but he new by the slight pressure applied to his hand.

"Three times." He continued softly.

"Greg." She breathed his name. "I'm glad you never succeeded." She said firmly.

"Thanks." He laughed a bit. It wasn't much, but it was progress.

"I'm here for you. No matter what. I'm here. And if you ever need someone just to tell you that everything is gonna be alright, I want you to call me or something. An if you ever need me to come over and just sit with you, I'll be there."

"Thank you." He whispered. She stood up and pulled him up with her. Before either of them said anything, she pulled him into her arms. She wrapped her arms around his lithe body, and just held onto him for a minute. He pressed his face into her neck. She could feel his warm breath and heat pulsated from his body. She wondered why she hasn't noticed how warm he was before this moment. She also noticed that he smelled really good, but pushed that thought away. He needed a friend right now, not someone hitting on him. They let go of each other, but she kept her hand on his arm.

"I'm taking you home." She said.

"Morgan-" He tried to protest.

"No. You don't need to be working now, and shift ended like three minutes ago." She laughed. "I'm taking you home." She pulled him to the door. He stopped her movement by refusing to move. She looked back at him and he pulled her into his arms. She saw the sparkle was back in his eyes.

"Thank you." He whispered. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. She saw that this caused him to blush furiously and laughed.

"Come on, I'm starving and I bet you are too. So lets go get something to eat." She took his hand and pulled him to the stairs.

Greg let her lead him, remembering the old saying; it always gets worse before it gets better.

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Anyway. Just my interpretation. :) read and review please!


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